Blink
by Fallende
Summary: Derek remembers having babysat Stiles as a kid, and at the time the younger boy had been the one with a crush. Derek's not quite sure that's the case anymore. Oneshot.


**Quick warnings: **Underage, mild porn at the end, teensy tinsy bit dubcon if you squint really hard, background Stalia that _could_ be considered anti-stalia if you're sensitive about that, unbeta'd (just edited by me, sorry)

* * *

Derek's two months into the school year when Paige dies. They hadn't quite been together; not officially, preferring to take things at their own pace. But he'd loved her, in a way he wasn't quite sure was everlasting but was definitely real, and the loss hurts quite a bit. Losing his father several days later puts the last nail in the coffin.

Derek's mother suggests he take a break in New York with his sister Laura. They had been close when they were younger, just not quite so before she left for college. The older Hale is not happy about having to share her college experience with her little brother but she understands the need and agrees to let him stay at her apartment.

And New York is just what he needs. The streets are crowded and there's something going on every night so his mind never wanders to ugly places. He spends his week nights at school clubs and playing basketball on the streets, his weekends at rave parties or drinking with friends. And then he goes to college, finds something he actually enjoys doing, and studies his heart out. Latin American History engages him in a way no other subject in high school really had (and being fluent in Spanish definitely helps).

By the time he exits university Laura has moved back home, earning herself a steady job and spending days nested together with the rest of his family. It's been too long, he decides. Losing his father was hard enough but at the rate he was going, he was going to lose out on the rest of their lives as well. So he talks to their local university and gets a job at the library translating texts and getting a stipend for his own research. The pay isn't great but his family is loaded anyways and there's enough room in the house that he could basically be living alone if he really wanted to anyways.

When Derek leaves New York behind he finds that he isn't leaving much. He'd stopped talking to his friends straight out of high school and hadn't made many in college. He's had no lasting relationships since Kate and no one who would miss him. The thought is depressing but the thought that he'll be back with his loving family soon cheers him right up.

* * *

Getting a welcome home party hadn't been something that Derek was expecting. The youngest Hale had insisted upon it. This surprises him, as Cora hadn't seemed quite so thrilled upon his arrival (though later admits that she would look for any excuse to get all her friends together at their house).

Kids from his freshman and sophomore class are there that he barely even remembers. They strike up meaningless conversation with him, but things aren't at all like the old days. They quickly realize this and move on.

Derek spends the middle half of the evening with Uncle Peter, Laura and her growing-on-him boyfriend Willard. He's nursing a glass of beer and watching Cora run a circle around her friends, playing duck duck goose (ironically?). Willard is trying to explain global warming to Peter, who couldn't give less of a shit, the evil prick.

"So what are the names of these friends of Cora's again?" Derek asks his sister for the third time. She steals a glance at him, annoyed.

"Why do you care so much about them?" Laura asks with a roll of her eyes, flipping long dark hair behind her shoulder. She's right, Derek doesn't usually take interest in any person outside of his family anymore.

"I need to know which of the boys are a threat." Derek says casually. Truthfully he has no other conversational topics and he's kind of desperate to catch up on the life of the sister he left behind.

Laura relents, pointing to the first girl; a busty blonde with a hardcore style. "She's Erica. Used to be epileptic but turned her life around after some miracle medication and now is a sex goddess." Her finger shifts to the black, hulkish boy sitting next to her. "Boyd, her chill boyfriend. Mostly a lurker." Next in line is "Isaac. Abusive father put in jail a few months ago, finally started opening up to…" Her finger drops, but next in the circle is a Latino boy with shaggy brown hair and a bright smile. "…Scott. Kind of the leader of the group, in a bit of a love triangle with…" The pretty girl next to him and the Asian girl running the circle around them, "…Allison and Kira. Then we have Lydia," A gorgeous strawberry blonde girl with an exceptionally pretty face, Derek has to admit, "top of her class and also dating douchebag lacrosse team captain Jackson, who moved to London just a few weeks ago because he's a douchebag." She skips over Cora, obviously, and last on the list is a cute boy. His hair is just longer than Derek's himself is and gelled in a messy style, sticking up in all directions. He's lithe but obviously in decent physical shape and has some dark little moles decorating his face. Derek recognizes him instantly. "The last one you know." Laura voices his thoughts. "Stiles Stilinski, son of the sheriff, you babysat him the summer before we moved to New York."

And boy does Derek remember that. It would be hard not to: the boy was a whirlwind all on his own. He was a hyperactive spaz, arms flailing when he talked about subjects he was passionate about (and at the time, he seemed to be passionate about everything), and always looking to get himself into trouble.

That and Stiles had had a massive crush on Derek when they were kids. Derek had thought it was just the 8 year old looking up to him as an older brother, until the boy dropped a shy kiss on his cheek one day and spent the rest of it turning beet red every time their eyes met. Honestly at the time Derek had thought it was exceedingly cute and hadn't done anything to deter the poor kid, which could have been a mistake but hey, he'd moved to the other side of the country just after that summer so the kid had plenty of time to get over it.

Now, though. Oh boy, now Derek almost feels like he might be the one with a crush.

Cora brings her group of friends over to see him once the evening winds down. "Now that we've spent the whole time ignoring the entire point of this party, I guess I should introduce you all to my brother." She states, rattling off the names of all of her friends again. When it's their turn Derek's eyes lock with Stiles and he can tell right away that the younger teen remembers him.

Awkwardly, Derek proffers his hand. When Stiles grabs it his hand is firm and his shake is quick. "Hey, Derek!" He says excitedly, removing the long fingers from Derek's grip. Derek misses them immediately. "Do you remember me? You used to babysit me!" The older man nods sagely but Stiles prattles on. "I used to be in love with that t-rex t-shirt but was just as in love with tearing it off whenever I could? And then you'd chase me around trying to get me to put it back on. And we'd play baseball only it wasn't really playing baseball, more like you throwing the ball at me and me being abused by a flying hard round thing that I was too afraid to catch? Because honestly, you threw damn fast-"

Derek cuts him off before Stiles can continue to embarrass himself. "Yes, I do. Though if you'd actually wore the catchers' mitt perhaps that wouldn't have been such a problem." The younger's eyes are a very intriguing shade of honey brown that Derek has to tear his gaze away from. Can't have anyone noticing he's falling for jailbait.

The laugh the statement erupts is musical. "You can't ask children to wear safety equipment dude, they don't listen."

"Your dad's the sheriff, asshole." The blonde named Erica pipes up, getting the rest of their group to join in on the laughter. Derek shuffles his feet.

"So Cora, thanks for the uh, party." He says awkwardly. He wants out of this situation and this seems like a good closing statement.

"Yeah, whatever." The youngest Hale waves her hand dismissively. "Not like you actually enjoyed yourself any anyways." Taking the opportunity, Derek hands his sister the rest of his beer and turns to leave.

"Don't stare at his ass!" He hears exclaimed behind him as he trots off. Objectively he knows it's one of the girls looking, but secretly deep deep down he hopes it's Stiles.

* * *

How the hell is it that, with the blink of an eye, the tables have turned? Derek is physically unable to do anything with his life the next day except let his mind linger on Stiles.

It's just, the kid looks so different and yet _just the same_ as he had eight and a half years ago. He was taller, sure, but the dimples when he smiled were still there. And his hair was longer and shaggier and lighter toned but it was still kind of styled upright.

And he still flailed his arms when he talked and his eyes still shone with mirth when he was around people. He seemed to have grown into a relatively good kid.

But after the past relationships he's had, Derek has sworn to never involve himself so much in another person's life again. Paige was horrible enough, and Kate had been the icing on the cake. Ever since he'd had nothing but one night stands and meaningless friends-with-benefits types of things.

Dwelling on this meant going down a dangerous path, and even his mother notices something has been bothering him by the end of the day. She's getting older and Derek doesn't want to cause her any more grief than she's already had, so when she asks he tells her it's nothing.

It's really not going to be anything, anyways.

* * *

Derek is translating an ancient Mayan text in the university library when a backpack slams down on the table next to his spread. He looks up and is met with a smiling set of teeth. "Any idea where I can find information on the most recent Chinese recession around here? Coach says I have to do my economics homework on actual economics this time." Derek is surprised to see Stiles here. This is a college library and anyways, the teenager should probably be in school right now. "Apparently a history of male circumcision isn't an appropriate topic for a research paper. Though in my defense that was a very well written paper."

Ignoring those last statements, Derek flicks his eyes over to the clock on his right. It's 4:30 and he has no idea how it even got that late without his noticing.

Stiles takes a seat across from him and starts pulling folders out of his backpack. They're all different colors, and he arranges them accordingly. "So I figure you're a grad student, right? Help me find good research material."

Derek points with one hand to his index finger on the other. "First of all, not a grad student. I work here."

"Even better!"

"Second of all," Derek interrupts, pointing to finger number two, "if I were a grad student, I wouldn't have time to waste helping some kid highschooler."

Stiles looks momentarily put out, but he bounces back quickly. If Stiles is rubber, then Derek is definitely glue. "But you're not a grad student." He points out unnecessarily. Derek wonders how many inches he would need to give the brunette a punch in the face hard enough to leave a mark. Probably only about three. "So help me find things about China. Chop chop, this university doesn't pay you for nothing!"

"They pay me to translate and do research." Derek grumbles but gets up anyways to show Stiles where the world history literature is located. The boy wanders aimlessly through the material, looking for something relevant to his interests before settling on a general textbook about understanding world economics and an older journal about the economic states of various parts of Asia.

He brings them over to the table Derek had previously been occupying, but doesn't open them right away. Instead, he looks boredly over the material Derek himself has been desperately trying to focus on.

"So Latin American World History huh." Derek gives him a look that says both _how do you know that_ and _this university doesn't pay me to chat with highschoolers_. "Cora told me after I pestered her about it."

Ah.

Stiles pestered Cora about him?

"Yes."

"So… whatcha got there, huh? Any interesting?"

Derek sighs heavily. He'd actually been getting somewhere with this piece, but it seems he wasn't going to get any further today. He carefully slips the laminated papyrus back into its labelled bin to return to the historical records department later. "I was translating some records on an ancient Mayan ritual for my notes. The research could prove important to understanding some odd rites of passage they performed on youth. Also the university kind of needs a translation."

"Wow, that is so much more fascinating than Chinese recessions." Stiles says. His head is put in his hand and he's looking over at the bin with only a vague amount of interest. Derek decides not to pull out all the contents. He doesn't want to show off, or bore the guy. Nervously, Derek runs a hand through his hair, pulling it out of its gel and messing up his 'do. Maybe Stiles dug the rugged look.

"So yeah, about those recessions." Derek says, settling down to show the freckled boy just how research was done.

* * *

The next time Derek sees Stiles is, once again, a coincidence. He's having lunch with a fling-turned-friend from New York, Braeden, at the local diner. She'd flown in on a whim, claiming she'd always wanted to feel what it was like to live in a mansion. She's sassy and free to do whatever she likes with her life at the moment, choosing to waste some savings and travel the US. Derek's pretty envious, though he knows his family has the money to float such a trip if he desired.

When Stiles spots him too, his eyebrows raise and his smile suddenly looks a little more forced. He's in the middle of telling a crappy joke to the boy from Cora's party, Scott, that Derek already knows the punchline to. But he drops that conversation and shoos Scott over to a table at the other side of the diner.

Derek puts up with this stupidity for all of about ten minutes before getting up and (politely) stopping in front of the table. "Hello." He says. "Cora's friends, right?"

Stile's mouth falls straight open and Scott has the gall to look embarrassed. "Hey, Derek." Scott says meekly giving a small wave. Derek nods and levels his gaze on the other.

"Pretty hot place to take a date." Stiles says sarcastically, once he's regained enough of his senses to actually respond. "Bet she'll be falling into bed with you tonight."

The absurd thing about it is, Braeden would probably be up for it if Derek actually was looking to get any this evening. But that would make things weird; they'd fallen out of that part of their relationship a little over a year ago and were content to remain just-friends-with-no-benefits. The sex had been good but Braeden had started something "permanent" (it hadn't lasted once she'd left to travel) and Derek didn't want to lead her there again when she'd gotten used to having something good.

"She's a friend from New York." Derek unintentionally snaps back. Stiles has the gall to look like he'd just been slapped in the face and Scott oddly looks a little relieved.

"Trust me dude-" _Don't call me 'dude' _He wants to growl, "-with the amount she's been touching your forearms, she doesn't think she's just a friend."

This time Derek does growl and stalks back to his table.

"Some dorky teenagers get on your bad side?" Braeden jokes at him once Derek has sat back down across from her at their table for two.

"Something like that." Derek responds. Without really meaning to start a fight, he asks, "Did you really just come here to stay at my 'mansion'?"

Braeden, sensing that something is wrong, immediately goes on the defense. "I haven't explored the upper half of California yet, you had a place to stay. What did those idiots say to you?"

Derek can tell she's serious but he can't stop himself from wanting confirmation. "You're not here for me? To get a quick lay since you haven't gotten any through your trip?" It comes out quite a bit more hostile than he intends.

And Braeden outright laughs. "If you think I haven't been able to get any in months, you're deluded." Derek actually snorts because yeah, now that he really thinks about it, that had been a stupid thing to say. Braeden's absolutely gorgeous, sexy and sweet with a great personality. She could have anyone. "And while I wouldn't have opposed to it, you're more important to me than a little meaningless sex."

It's what Derek doesn't really know he needs to hear. When he glances over to Stiles and Scotts' table, they've stopped trying to hide but aren't eavesdropping on his and Braeden's conversation either.

"Thanks." Derek says. It's nice to know that someone still cares.

* * *

"Stay the fuck away from Stiles."

His little sister is very obviously angry. Her face is pinched and her eyebrows have dropped so far in that way she has that almost looks like it would block her sight entirely. _Why_, Derek has only part of an idea. "I'm not exactly running into the guy on purpose." He responds. This doesn't seem to be the right response.

"Then don't engage the idiot!" She rebuttals, throwing her arms at him. "And don't pretend you aren't because Scott says you approached them at the diner Saturday afternoon!"

"They were acting like I didn't notice them there while hiding behind menus and gossiping about me and Braeden. It was annoying."

This time she actually slaps his arm. "Ignore it! Why would someone your age wanna hang around teenagers anyways, even you have to know that's weird! I know what this is really about!" Cora continues to rant, blowing right through any chances Derek gets to interrupt. "I _know_ what this is!" He tries to protest, really he does. "He's _sixteen_, Derek! And even if the fact that his dad is the sheriff weren't enough, the kid's not good boyfriend material! He dated this girl named Malia and their relationship was weird, like she was all possessive and dominatrix and he broke up with her because he said being in a relationship was like throwing all of his friends under the bus!"

This is like striking gold. Suddenly, Derek knows why Cora's against anything that might happen between them.

"So you're worried I'll distract him too much from the rest of you?" Derek asks tentatively, reaching out his hand to place it comfortingly on hers. "I don't want to steal your friends away from you, Cora. I would never want to hurt you."

"What would you know about the way I feel?" She rips her hand out from under his. Derek's taken aback. "You left me alone to spend time with Laura instead! You haven't known anything about me since you were a teenager!" She's spitting in his face now. Derek doesn't know how to fix this. "People change! I've changed, but you wouldn't know that because you spent your time living a different life up in New York City!"

The guilt is choking. He hadn't been thinking about his kid sister at the time, just kind of figured she'd understand that he was hurting and needed change. But her sister had left for college just before she lost her father, and then she'd lost her brother too. As far as little Cora was concerned, half of her family had been gone practically overnight.

And this hurts to think about. The last thing Derek wanted was to share the pain he had gone through these last few years with family. But instead of sharing it, he'd caused it for this poor girl. She must have spent that time in a spiraling depression that formed the tough exterior she had today.

Cora sighs, her body going limp. She drags a hand down her forehead. "He tends to wrap his life around the person he's crushing on. " Derek notices the subject change, decides not to pursue the issue. "He latches on and doesn't let go for years. He buys gifts and sends cutesy texts and plans the next 10 years for those he loves." She sighs. "Him and Malia were… different. They started out with a sporadic makeout in a party basement and then developed from there. It didn't work out the way Stiles wanted – that just isn't the way he is."

* * *

Stiles is 8 and Derek is 15 when the older boy gets his first job babysitting for the Sheriff's son. He'd come about this because he'd whined to his mother about not having enough spending money, and Talia had brought the idea up to John Stilinski at their summer barbeque. The thought of watching some dumb kid for several hours a day isn't exactly appealing but when he actually meets Stiles he agrees, because he can tell the kid certainly won't make the time pass slowly.

At first the young child is shy around him, doesn't talk too much and gets nervous the moment his father walks out the door. But he's a joker at heart and opens up quickly. They spend their days tossing baseballs and reading books (nonfiction, who woulda thought).

Derek's responsible and is never late. John likes him well enough and calls Derek all the time; from their scheduled worktimes to emergencies to grocery runs. Derek doesn't mind, sometimes watching Stiles at his home, sometimes having Stiles dropped off at his own house.

Stiles adores the preserve. It's big and gives the boy ample room to run around, which he needs. He likes to try climbing the trees but can never get very high up before he freaks out and screams for Derek to help him get down.

Occasionally Stiles will talk about his other friends from school, but most of the time when he talks it's asking Derek questions about his life or what high school is like. There's an awful lot of fawning but Derek doesn't let it bother him because the freckled kid is an only child and that must get lonely.

They're in a ravine, kicking a soccer ball back and forth when Stiles takes a pretty nasty plunge into the river. Derek's holding back laughter and waiting for a head to pop up that doesn't happen. Panic sets in, and pulling off his shirt Derek wades right into the water. Stiles hadn't fallen in too deep but the current could have dragged him somewhere else quickly and the dark haired teen had no idea whether or not his client could swim.

He's in past his knees and desperately searching the water when Stiles breaks the surface. His face is red and he's filthy with mud, but he's alright. Derek swims to him and grabs the younger's arm for balance but Stiles cries out loudly in pain.

One look at the arm said it was broken.

"Okay." Derek says, wracking his brain for what to do. "Stiles I'm gonna pick you up, okay? And we're gonna go right to the hospital."

"NO!" The soaked kid writhes in his arms, but it's difficult for him to resist too hard when he can't move one hand. "Not there! Please, mommy and daddy will kill me!"

Derek snorts. "Your parents won't kill you, but they might kill me." He tries not to think of the sheriff's gun while he carries Stiles through the preserve and into his mother's SUV.

When John and Claudia show up in the white room where Stiles is napping an hour later, they're not angry at all. Claudia soothes him of his nerves, stating, "Stiles is a rambunctious boy and sometimes accidents just happen" and thanks him for taking good care of her son.

* * *

**So derek u up to tutor me again?**

Derek stares at his phone confused for a moment. What random stranger got his number? He figures it out just as he receives-

**This is stiles btw**

Oh. _Say no_,Derek thinks, but his brain is an idiot.

_**Okay**_

He lets out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Crap, this was bad. _Text him back, tell him you forgot about other plans!_

**Sweet! Can b at ur place in half?**

_No!_ Derek's mind screams. After that fiasco with Cora yesterday, having Stiles come over to the house was the worst idea basically ever. She would never speak to either of them again.

_**I can be there in 15.**_

**It takes 20 minutes 2 drive 2 preserve**

So Stiles still lives on the opposite side of town. Hardly a problem for them.

_What._

_**I've got a camaro and a live and let die attitude.**_

He knows Stiles is laughing at his expense but he also knows that he's spent a lot of time and money on leather jackets to maintain his badass appearance. And anyways the kid laughed at anything, so having him laugh at something Derek had said was all the better.

The drive to Stiles home should be long, but he spends it speeding and cutting some lights close. He's lucky he doesn't get caught, but the preserve doesn't have much traffic anyways and that had been half the way.

When he knocks on the door, Stiles opens it with a smile. He shoos Derek into the small front room, instructing Derek to take off his shoes and remove his leather jacket, as the place had just been cleaned. The sheriff is not home.

They set up in Stile's room. Perhaps it was a dangerous idea, but the bed is small (not that Derek was paying any attention to that) and there's posters hung crookedly on the wall of some popular celebrities, both male and female (that Derek pays some little amount of attention to). The desk is littered with papers that Stiles shoves unceremoniously to the floor, and instead pulls a notebook and outline out and sits Derek down in the spinning desk chair.

"So how'd your date go?" Stiles asks conversationally. Derek had forgotten they had been fighting and goes instantly stiff.

"It wasn't a date. Honestly. It's all past history."

"Okay." Stiles' reaction to this is flippant, guarded. "I mean, I wasn't too worried. It's not like it was permanent, you guys aren't married or anything." His gaze moves to Derek's finger. Derek knows there's no ring but he rubs the spot self-consciously anyways. "Anyways, I was hoping you'd look over these notes I have on that China thing I was doing. Give me a go-ahead to start writing the body of this paper. Which reminds me, I hope you brought something else to do while I'm typing."

Derek had, just in case. He'd shoved the latest manuscript he'd gotten from the library, a copy of a bill sent over from city hall for safe keeping and ready to be translated to Spanish, into the back pocket of his jeans.

Stiles' work is good: well organized but written in many different colors. Derek gives his approval and Stiles hunkers down by his laptop while Derek settles down on a chair in the back of his room, writing little translations in the margins of the papers and answering questions anytime Stiles asked them.

After an hour, Stiles decides to open up conversation again. "So what was up with you leaving for New York without your parents, huh?"

It's a sore subject but Stiles is starting to grow on him, so Derek replies anyways. "I don't know if you ever knew Paige McLaughlin. She was a… a good friend of mine." Stiles nods across the room, admitting under his breath that he had read her file a few years ago in his dad's office. Suspected murder, unsolved. "And a few days later my father got in a car accident." Stiles nods again, urging him to continue. Though a lump was forming in his throat, Derek did. "And my sister had just moved there for university and my mother didn't want her grieving alone. Suggested I move into Laura's apartment."

The dark haired boy blows out a sigh. "That all sucks. Like, really sucks. I guess I thought you left for New York because of me."

"Why would you think that?" It's a rather odd idea.

"I dunno. You left like, right after you babysat me for that summer. I was a danger to society then." _Still are_, Derek thinks to himself. "And then my mom got sick but it just never occurred to me that she could _die_, and she did. And that was my fault too. Plus when you're that age, everything just revolves around you."

Despite himself Derek laughs at that. When he looks over anxiously Stiles is smirking, the corner of his lip brought up just that little bit and Derek finds it so attractive. But it's also relieving. Good, Stiles had been going for comic relief.

"Your mother's death wasn't your fault." Derek tries to soothe. Stiles obviously doesn't buy it, so Derek continues on, "No really, you were a child. It was your job to be selfish and without worry. Not guilty."

"I guess." Stiles breathes, still unconvinced, but the conversation drops and Stiles buries himself in his homework once again, only stealing the occasional glance over Derek's way.

* * *

When Derek answers the front door a week later he isn't expecting to see a shock of brown hair standing on the porch. He calls over his shoulder to Cora and then notices the wrapped package Stiles is holding.

"I'm uh, not actually looking for your sister." Stiles says, pushing the package in his direction. "This is for you. Because of you helping me with my paper. We got them back the other day and I got full credit, so thanks."

Derek isn't quite sure what to do in this situation so he holds the package and shuffles his feet. "Open it." Stiles squawks. Derek does.

"It's a blender. I got you a blender. Because you seem like the kinda guy who drinks lots of protein shakes and works out a lot and geez, wow that was actually really a stupid present I can get you the seasons of band of brothers I left at home-"

"Thanks." Derek cuts Stiles off before the rambling can continue and Stiles is blushing but looking thankful that someone had shut him up. He opens the door wider and turns around to let Stiles in. Cora has come up behind him and lets out a huff of annoyance, but follows them over to the west wing. Talia had originally set up a kitchenette over there for Laura, but the eldest sister didn't seem to mind living with the rest of the family so Derek took his chance to set up camp there. He appreciated having his own space in the large house but it meant he was responsible for keeping it clean.

"This is cool." Stiles says from his living room while Derek is setting the blender up on a counter. "It's like having an apartment inside your own house."

"Derek can't tell people he lives with his mother, he has to be a strong independent man." Cora explains, flopping down on his couch. Stiles sits down with her. "You were gonna give my brother tv episodes? This asshole doesn't even watch tv."

Stiles guffaws. "What? Who doesn't watch tv?"

Feeling oddly uptight, Derek guards, "I do! Just… not without prompting."

"Not even like Star Wars? Or Game of Thrones?"

"I've seen Star Wars."

"Lord of the Rings?"

Cora gets abruptly off the couch. "I'm out." She says, closing the door to Derek's wing behind her. Silence rings through the apartment for a moment before Derek responds.

"Yes, I've seen Lord of the Rings."

Stiles lays down on the couch where Cora had left. His feet are propped up on the armrest, as he's a little too tall to fit snugly across the whole thing. But Derek likes the sight of it. Thinks the younger boy belongs there. "Well at least you know the important stuff." Stiles sighs, sinking deeper into the pillows now surrounding his head. "This is a great couch. I wish I were rich."

"It's all old money." Derek explains, setting two cans of coke on the coffee table by Stiles' head. He sits down in an arm chair across from the other and props his feet up on a leg rest. "Most of it's locked in bonds somewhere underground. Touching any of it is a huge hassle. We just inherited the house and try to live off whatever money we make. We only go through the trouble to get the other money for big things, or charity projects."

"You talk a lot more than I would have expected." Stiles' head is still buried in the throw pillows so the words are a bit muffled but Derek hears them regardless.

He smirks. "I'm an introvert, but that doesn't mean I don't talk to my friends."

…Friends. Are they friends? Is Derek even okay with that? Is Stiles? Is there the possibility of more between them? The thoughts just keep popping up in his head and Derek tries his hardest to suppress them. It's harder than expected.

Stiles turns his head away from its cotton fortress and smiles at him. It's radiant and does more to light up the room than Derek's sparse windows do. He thinks he wants Stiles here and smiling forever.

It's at this moment that Derek knows he's in too far. This idiot just came to his house to give him a blender and now he's buried in pillows and smiling like there's nowhere else he'd rather be and Derek wants to wrap his arms around the boy and never let go.

But that's just it – _Stiles is a boy_. Cora had told him that Stiles had turned 17 a few days ago but that's still illegal. And there's no way to hide an illicit relationship when the kid is the son of the damn sheriff.

Before Derek can even resist, Stiles is blushing like mad but sitting confidently down on Derek's lap. The older drops his feet and starts to put his hands between them but Stiles wraps his arms quickly around the back of Derek's neck and then he leans forward, slotting their lips together.

The kiss is nothing special, just a quick and hesitant peck on the lips, but it ignites a spark in Derek that he's not allowed to have. He starts to say the other's name but Stiles cuts him off. "I'm mentally an adult." Derek wants to protest this because mentally Stiles is an idiot, but his breath is cut short once again by another kiss, this one deeper than the last. A tongue flicks out to brush wetly along his bottom lip, and Derek groans but doesn't open his mouth for the other.

When Stiles pulls away this time his face is darkened by disappointment. He lets out a breathy whine and starts mouthing along Derek's neck, warm little puffs of air turning Derek's mind to jello and no, Derek can't really let this keep going but he can't really stop it, either. Stiles grinds impatiently down on his leg and _oh gee, that's hard_. He feels himself reacting in kind but reins that in as much as possible.

Finally Derek lifts his hand and grabs Stiles' shoulder, gripping it hard and tugging it off from cupping the back of his neck. Stiles detaches from his throat and when he looks into Derek's eyes they're flooding with lust. "Stiles, your father can put me in jail for this. I know he carries a gun."

"Who cares about my father, he'd probably give me a celebratory shot of whiskey for losing my virginity to someone as ridiculously hot as you."

Derek knows he's attractive, he runs and does his pushups and girls hit on him left and right. But hearing Stiles say it is fantastic because it confirms that _yes_, Stiles is still crushing on him just like he had been when he was 8 years old.

"I can keep it a secret, probably. I mean not to my friends cuz I'll probably brag my pants off," That pun was certainly intended to evoke the wrong kind of images, "but I'm awesome at lying to my dad. He knows I hide stuff. He's learned not to question." Stiles kisses him hard again and this time Derek doesn't fight it so much. That traitorous tongue is prodding his bottom lip and Derek starts to part his lips before Stiles pulls away to add, "He won't throw you in jail."

And really though he knows it shouldn't, that kinda breaks Derek's resolve. He starts to let go, this time letting the younger's tongue slide gracelessly into his mouth. The kiss is heated and Derek decides that if this is going to happen, he should at least be somewhat responsible.

Stiles positively keens when Derek finally gets his hands on the other, fingers deftly sliding under the comic book t-shirt Stiles had been wearing and stroking at the hard line of hipbone beneath his fingers. Stiles' own hand shoots down, thumbing at the button of Derek's jeans and Derek can't get enough of the sound that comes out of those cupid bow lips. His fingers stumble, but the teen manages to get the button undone and dives his hand right into the hem of the elder's pants without even bothering to get the zipper.

Stiles' mouth breaks off from his and beelines south and Derek knows right away where this is going, and if he's taking control then this isn't allowed to happen, not yet. As soon as Stiles' hot breath hits his thighs, Derek grabs underneath a flecked jawline and halts the advance. "Sorry, maybe some other time. Not yet." He tries not to let his voice waver or sound too needy. Stiles doesn't need to know how much it pains him to stop that blowjob from becoming a thing that happens.

There's a small shrug from the kid before Stiles digs his hand in further, fingertips catching in the hole of Derek's boxers. The darker haired jerks forwards and Stiles grinds down onto his leg again, moaning gratefully at the friction.

Groaning, Derek shoos Stiles' hands out of his pants and instead works on getting them open properly. He's just got his dick out of his underwear when Stiles' pounces for it again, wrapping long fingers around his base and jerking upwards. It elicts a gasp that Derek quickly cuts off. For some reason he wants to keep quiet, hear Stiles making the noises instead. And Stiles sure is vocal. He's twirling his hip over Derek's midthigh in time with the thrusts of his hands, whimpering softly. But his focus seems more intent on his work with Derek's cock, his own pleasure just background noise. Derek should complain but seriously, there's a hand on him that's not his own and he's actually the one who hasn't gotten anything in months, not Braeden.

Stiles' hand is slick with precome and when his thumb ghosts over the head of Derek's cock the older man thrusts involuntarily forward. Stiles grins and does it again, just to screw with him. He starts moving more sporadically in Derek's lap, seeking friction to get himself off at the same time as Derek.

And Derek's ashamed to say that he cums shortly after. Stiles' jerking is rough and has little finesse, its purpose clear. But at least the teenager is the one who comes in his pants, so that's a comfort.

"Suppose I'm not gonna get you to fuck me, huh?" Stiles asks after coming down from the post-orgasmic high.

Derek levels him with a stern gaze, his eyes narrowing. "No."

* * *

Derek fucks him a month later because Stiles is a little shit and doesn't know when to let go. They don't make it a regular thing until Stiles turns eighteen, and by then the next ten years have already been planned out for them.


End file.
